Gladys' Words
by Guava Spice Latte
Summary: This is Gladys Sharp Lafontant. Would you like to know what I have been up to throughout the years?
1. Chapter 1

Introduction

"Hiiii, this is Gladys Sharp. Your president. Of the Homeowner's Association."

Or at least that was my former life. I can hear her voice clear as bells, the sound of myself finally on top of the world for a short-lived peak.

But that's too depressing a way of looking at it.

It's Tuesday. On Sunday, I became Gladys Sharp Lafontant. It happened so quickly and I didn't feel like a different person at all. I just drove five minutes with an extra person in the passenger seat from my mother-in-law's house to the little backwoods house I've been staying at that's officially my home now, and started marriage almost without thinking about it.

I'm pregnant. I don't think anyone ever thought that would happen to me, not as time went on and my peers decided I was too crazy for a man. I have a Dwayne. It's surprisingly pleasant to have a Dwayne now. We had to learn to like each other to make the best of the same community service sentence, but it wasn't that difficult. Both of us had crushes on each other within 12 hours of meeting. It was the fateful morning after that both set us back and brought us together in the longer run.

My former life is gone. I really can't face the people back at El Rancho Camelot subdivision. Janis and Debbie keep in touch, but that's essentially it. I don't want pity. Gladys Sharp is known as the crazy woman these days, which is why I took my husband's name. Maybe strangers won't make the connection as quickly, but even if they do, I need a new start at least for myself.

I recently had a weird dream that I went back to the suburbs to finish developing the land and the same drama with the forest animals only repeated itself. It wasn't one of my better dreams.

Dwayne is surprisingly pleasant to have around, like I said. He's calmed me more than any therapy has, just by being nice to me. Getting used to me was the most annoying part for him. He still figured out how to make me happy and more relaxed early on. I'm easy for Dwayne to "read". He gave me a new cat. That was the turning point in our relationship. The new cat is a shelter rescue, and not a purebred, but more attached to me than Prince Tiberius was. His name was Smoky, but he isn't even grey. He's a mixture of yellow and orange, and I named him Silas Marner. I feel a little like Silas Marner from the book of the same name.

I hope Tiberius is safe somehow. I haven't found him.


	2. Chapter 2

Aubrey

On September 4th, 2008, Aubrey Marie Lafontant entered the world. She has beautiful black hair and green eyes. In fact, she's nearly the splitting image of me. Dwayne says she lucked out. He treats her like a princess. I knew he would.

Aubrey is absolutely amazing. I made a person. I made an actual person.

Sometimes it feels like I wasn't born so much as kicked out of some type of heavenly corporation while I was still a baby. That probably doesn't make any sense.

I know Aubrey isn't exactly like me because I never got that kind of feeling from her. Her world is innocent. In contrast, I think I always saw life as something to micromanage.

Actually, I worried about how I would be as a mom because of my OCD, but I think I'm doing just fine.

Mm, well, Aubrey already won prizes in the baby division of six beauty pageants and I'm really hoping she wins an overall prize soon. I need an outlet, and pageants are perfect. The other contestants are at a disadvantage because Aubrey just is the most beautiful. They're at another disadvantage, too.

Sometimes a flash of light will appear out of nowhere and whatever frustrates my daughter melts. It just melts, or it disintegrates. Dwayne notices this, as well. He's sure it's remnants of her parents, that's us, getting struck by the Depelter Turbo, and there's nothing else it really could be.

The light isn't as bright as the Depelter Turbo's flash. I don't think anything else on earth is that bright, and frankly, I'm not sure it's from earth. Man may have developed it, but it's not something that was made for earth.

Dwayne doesn't have our daughter's ability. Neither do I.

Of course, all this stays a secret. We may be monitored as it is. The last thing we need is to lose our child to science.


	3. Chapter 3

Parker

Our second daughter, Parker Blaire Lafontant, greeted us on October 13th, 2010. It wasn't a Friday. It was a very nice autumn afternoon in Wednesday.

Parker has lighter hair than Aubrey does. Her hair is a lovely brown. She does share my green eyes.

Dwayne says his hair looked like Elvis Presley and that Parker's hair is from his mother. Jessie, my mother-in-law, dyes her hair from grey to blonde and doesn't have photos of her childhood because she had a rough start in life. I'll have to take their words on Jessie's alleged brown hair. I don't believe Dwayne ever looked like Elvis Presley, because what's left of his hair is tufts of brown, and no photos indicate his hair was anything else. Dwayne is a legend in his own mind, which is adorable when it isn't embarrassing me.

I moved us from Dwayne's backwoods lodge to a slightly bigger backwoods lodge. My savings aren't what they used to be, although I still retain enough of a reminder that I was once a wealthy woman. I have Aubrey and Parker's futures to think about. That's terrifying.

There isn't any guarantee about the future. While my own parents were far from emotionally supportive, I had upper class advantages. What did it get me?

I work on the books in a factory job while my husband works production. We're not struggling financially by any means, but I'm not in charge of any part of Americana besides my own little family.

Say that my daughters get the best education and jobs money could buy. If they're anything like me, which they are, does that investment mean anything?

Don't misunderstand. I love these girls. I just don't think emphasizing the material is the best approach.

I say that, but both are winning beauty pageants.

Parker, just like Aubrey, can send out flashes of light that, well, destroy. They're sweet kids. Their superpower is sporadic enough that I'm not sure how many people really suspect them.

Parker is calmer than Aubrey, but she certainly doesn't let her big sister push her around. I think Parker takes more after Dwayne and Aubrey takes more after me. Aubrey worries that Parker is full of germs and pulls away when the baby tries to hug her. Oh, Aubrey. I know you don't intend to look mean. You're still a baby yourself.


	4. Chapter 4

Life

Living in the backwoods means there are animals. My court-ordered therapist told me before children and marriage that living around animals would either make or break me. Hearing that, I saw two futures. In one, I was living alone under an invented name, living without any support in some type of established town or city where no one knew me, trying to return to my former prime and panicking at every animal I saw. The other was taking the chance on letting someone else in and facing animals. Deer and rabbits are the most common out here.

I won't say Dwayne and I haven't tried creative ways to eliminate the nearby animal population. We have. We haven't tried nearly as much as when I lived in the suburbs, because the idea of losing the girls is too much for us to take enormous risks.

If Dwayne weren't permanently fired as a Verminator, I would have taken Verm Tech classes and we'd be the best in the business together by now. We're a fun team. I wish that were possible. If nothing else, we'd be entertaining and people would know us to hire us for that.

Are we intelligent?

I don't know. We know big words and how to use them. We're also impulsive. We're book smart. I don't think we're very life smart, but we made it this far.

Aubrey doesn't pull away from Parker anymore. She grew out of that.


	5. Chapter 5

Life, Again, and Love

We moved to a large city. I found a job with a law firm that's offering to pay my way through a legal degree. I suggested commuting, but the workload is too large. So, we've found a three-bedroom apartment. The only animals around are domesticated or birds, or both.

Living out here, it feels like the past four years were a dream. Part of me wants to go back to the serene backwoods. My OCD is getting worse again by necessity out here. I handled paperwork in my last job, but the paperwork wasn't this excruciating and complicated.

The girls have more to disintegrate in the city. That also concerns me.

Dwayne is the fun parent. He found work at a store that sells comics, movies, video games, and action figures, among other similar things. The girls love hanging out there.

Speaking of Dwayne, he can still calm me better than anyone else. We talk through my stringent tendencies and he's usually able to talk me down from panic attacks. These methods don't always work out, and like I said, my OCD is getting worse again, but I'm terrified even imagining where I would be if I were still living life as a family of one. Dwayne and I having each other is probably all we need, the opposite of the downfall we once thought of it as. He's said throughout our relationship that he can't believe someone as beautiful as me loves someone like him. I don't have an explanation for it. I just don't think looks matter. He understands me and cares for me, and that's all I ever asked for. It certainly doesn't hurt that his size means tight hugs, and tight hugs mean a sense of security for me.


	6. Chapter 6

Quintuplets

May 23rd, 2015, we welcomed to the world Spencer Diana, Sawyer Amelia, Sheridan Renee, Sloane Gladys, and Delaney Dwayna Lafontant.

We may be running out of name ideas. Dwayne still wants a namesake son. I do, too, especially now with seven girls in total. All five of the quintuplets are girls.

Unlike their big sisters, what superpowers they do have aren't anything we need to worry about. We thought they didn't have the ability until noticing it in very small doses. Maybe the further away from March 2006 that time gets, the more diluted the after affect is in the children. Maybe it's that, or the quintuplets resulting from IVF. Someone could know something and have tried to make these five normal.

Regardless, they're very adorable. They have black wavy hair, bordering on curly hair. All have hazel green eyes and cute chubby cheeks. They could get away with murder, they're so stinking cute.

Maybe Dwayne did look like Elvis once and the evidence is just lost.

Spencer, Sawyer, Sheridan, Sloane, and Delaney moved into what was Parker's room in the apartment. Parker moved into Aubrey's room. Aubrey isn't happy about this situation. She hasn't adjusted yet, and it's been three years since the quints were born.

I think it's time we try the suburbs again. We could start a new development, or bring life back to a ghost town and make it ours. I don't really want the girls to spend all their life cramped for space. Everyone here is looking at our family strangely for having so many children now.

I sorely miss suburban peace and tranquility, and even backwoods peace and tranquility. I moved for opportunity, but I'm not spending my life mentally and physically sick. I have constant headaches here.

Aubrey doesn't want to move. She loves the city. I understand that to an extent. I would appreciate the city more if I were her age and not so tired.

I want to be a fun parent, too, not the parent that's never home and annoying everyone about rules when she is home.


	7. Chapter 7

Daughters

We did it. We bought a former gated community of the 1980s, long since abandoned. Legend says the place is cursed. That sounds like nonsense to me.

We can rebuild the community like we rebuilt our lives. Whatever happens, we'll come out on the side of happiness. We always do.

Moving day is less than a month away. We'll spend the 4th of July in our new home. The 4th of July is two holidays at once for us. It's also Dwayne's birthday. My birthday is January 11th. I don't believe in astrology, but I believe I'm a Capricorn.

Silas, the cat, curls up to one side of me and sleeps. Delaney sleeps next to my other side. I'm sitting up on a couch, on the verge of sleep myself, thoughts keeping me awake.

I stroke Delaney's hair and wonder how I'm raising her. There's a big red bow in the back of her hair that I unclasp and place on the nearby coffee table. My mother says boys are closer to their mothers and girls are closer to their fathers. Because of this theory, my mother also thinks she and I would have understood each other more had I been a boy. If this belief had value, and I don't think that's the case, then I would have a very lonely destiny ahead of me. All my children are girls. I'm not worried about superstition, which is what poorly researched sociological theories are. My children admire me.

Aubrey wants to be me. Aubrey used to look in mirrors at herself and say she was imagining growing up to be me. You can't get a higher compliment than that.

At the same time, I don't want to intimidate the girls. I've gotten angry at them. Once, after the two oldest caused a scene at the grocery store, I was angry to the point Dwayne said, "Back off, woman! Don't crush their spirits!"

We continued to argue, even though I suspected he had a very good point. I also had a very good point. The kids can't do anything and everything they want. I know I'm controlling, but I have my reasons and want to be a good leader. That's all I ever really wanted.

Relationships can't be replaced, especially not the most important relationships. All I ever really wanted is still not as important as my family. I know that, and my family is more important than my pride.

I still held on to my pride. If our daughters did anything and everything they wanted, they could bring about the apocalypse if angry enough. The next day, Aubrey and Parker were pleading with me to forgive them, swearing they would never do anything to make me hate them again. Of course, I never hated my children. I told them this and did forgive them, but the older two continued apologizing profusely. This is unusual for these girls. They are very strong-willed and outspoken girls.

What created the scene in the grocery store in the first place was the two of them telling the free sample vendor that his pork and onion pudding squares were disgusting. They said this while throwing their samples and other samples to the ground, smashing them with their feet. The overhead sign for Aisle 4 burned into pieces around the unsuspecting salesman. I knew that was due to the girls, and that was when I really let them have it. In contrast, these kids were pleading with me to stop being mad at them by the next morning. Granted, they didn't know the vendor and I'm their mother.

The amount of power I have over their emotional well-being is the biggest responsibility I've ever had. So, while they aren't permitted to get away from bad behavior without punishment, I don't care if I can't completely control them. Saying that is hard. Crushing their spirits would be harder.

I think I overwhelmed my mother with similar behavior. The girls aren't too much for me. I know how they operate, especially Aubrey, even if I can't always predict every potential problem.

Parker just walked out of her room for a drink of water. She's supposed to be in bed. I motion for her to stay quiet and not wake Delaney. A less rational version of me would lecture her about moving around the house after bedtime. Thankfully, that's not where I am in life.

I'm very glad I relaxed before raising children, even though I had to go through hell to get to both of those life events.

In some respects, I'm glad I went through hell. I appreciate the people around me more because of what I've been through.

Those are not the sounds of getting water. Parker Blaire is fixing herself a midnight feast. I roll my eyes, carry Delaney to bed, tuck her under blankets and kiss all the quintuplets, then walk to the kitchen. Maybe I'll give Parker a break. She played goalie in a soccer game today, and her team lost.

Maybe I won't give her a break. This child's mouth is overflowing with shredded cheese. She's allergic to dairy. Not severely allergic, but she's going to smell awful for days.

"HiMomIloveyou."

We're at a standstill for what's probably seconds, but feels like minutes. "You know what? I love you, too, but I'm going to wake up your dad. This is one for him."

My 7-year-old attempts a sheepish grin as cheese falls to the floor. "I also have cheese in a can," she volunteers, pointing to and holding up a squeezed can.

"I can see that. It's on your face, silly girl."

I know she's smashing a Twinkie as I leave the kitchen. She smashes Twinkies to, in her words, "see the life drain out of them". I swear, my husband and I are raising perfectly functioning young human beings.

I go into my bedroom and sit on the bedside, gently nudging my husband.

He's used to my nudging him awake for help with the girls. He sleeps like a rock under most circumstances, and he goes to bed early these days if he can help it. He has some physical disabilities that tire him out, and time hasn't made them easier. Time has worsened his disabilities, as muscles and age don't mix well. Still, we do our best to help each other.

"Hi, sweetie," I say. We share a kiss before I explain the situation. "There's a very silly brunette in the kitchen stress-eating cheese, and she's allergic to cheese."

Dwayne chuckles. "I'll talk to her." He reaches over to the nightstand and puts on his glasses, looking me over by the light of the hallway. "You look like you need sleep, Gladys."

It's blunt, but it's true. I'm equally blunt.

"I do need sleep. Moving is keeping me awake."

"Thinking about our lives is keeping you awake."

"That, too. Why aren't you going in the kitchen before Parker turns into a block of cheese?" I ask, climbing into the bed. I pull the covers over myself and fall into my pillows.

"Hold your horses, Nancy. I'm going."

He leaves the bedroom, and I hear from the kitchen, "Do you want to stink? Because this is how you stink," and a laughing daughter.

I'm barely asleep when it's my turn. Dwayne doesn't need to nudge me awake so much as return to the room and start talking, so I know I couldn't have attempted sleep for very long. I still wake up early, so I can just imagine what a fun and not at all exhausting morning awaits. I'm so taking the kids to breakfast at a restaurant instead of eating at home. Dwayne can deliver my morning coffee in bed, and I'll tell him this. Hours from now, the kitchen will probably still smell like gas.

"From what I hear, Parker was in the kitchen because Aubrey was crying in their room. Parker was confused and scared," Dwayne says. "She's sleeping on the couch now. You might want to check on Aubrey."

I shuffle toward Aubrey and Parker's shared room, wondering if the oldest is asleep by this point.

I'm instantly more awake when I see the window open to the night sky, Aubrey looking down on the city and muffling sobs.

Turning around to see me, Aubrey says, "If you make me move, I'll never be happy again. Never! I could never be happy somewhere new!"

I'm reminded of myself at just about her age saying almost the exact same thing to my parents. "You're never happy anyway," was my mother's response. "Was that really necessary?" asked my father. My mother said it was the truth, and that was the end of that.

Back in the present, I extend my arms to Aubrey. She hugs me tightly. "You're ruining my life," she says between sobs.

"Baby, I really think you'll like this. If you hate it, I promise I'll get you a city apartment as soon as you turn 18." Why did I promise that?

"That's too long away! I'll be dead by then! Wild animals will kill me before I'm 18!"

Oh good god.

"That's not how it works. Nothing will kill you. You're strong, smart, fast, and popular. You can survive anything, and people like you. Time goes faster than you know. Much, much faster. Your father and I love you more than life, and we won't let anything hurt you. Lafontants fight back, okay? If you face this adventure head on, I will be so proud of you."

She's not crying anymore.

I have a mini me with her arms around my waist, hoping for dear life to make me proud.


	8. Chapter 8

Grandma Jessie

I love my mother-in-law. It may not be normal for a daughter-in-law to say that, but my mother-in-law is fantastic. I would be remiss to talk about my family without talking about Dwayne's mother. She was the first person to say aloud that Dwayne and I were a destined couple.

Grandma Jessie is warm and inviting, at least the woman I know.

Dwayne loves his mother, as well, but says I know the older, mellow version of her.

Jessie is always dying her hair blonde and staying too long in tanning beds. Her son tells her staying in tanning beds as long as she does can't be good for her. She doesn't listen. Jessie has been through enough that she's entitled to do as she pleases, in her words. She uses more colorful language to say this.

Talking to her granddaughters, she says,

"I know how you all feel. Aubrey, I'm the oldest daughter like you. Parker, I looked like you when I was your age. Quintuplets, I was one of 15 children. I was nothing if not lost in a crowd. When I was a big little baby, grandgirlies, my parents watched me with concern and said, 'Kind of strange and slow, isn't she?' My sister Jill was born less than a year later, and my parents said, 'HOLY CRAP, THIS ONE IS SO MUCH HEALTHIER!' and threw me outside."

The ending of that story never happened. It might as well have, in Jessie's mind. I can see why.

Jessie did indeed have a hard life. She didn't graduate 8th grade, due to undiagnosed dyslexia and a severe stigma against left-handed people that existed at the time. She was a homeless teenager, because her parents kicked her out of the family home and said they weren't going to waste resources on her. Soon she was a pregnant homeless teenager. Dwayne was her firstborn. She'd go on to have eight other sons before finally having a daughter in midlife.

But getting back to teenage Jessie, Dwayne's early childhood was spent on the streets. The streets really were full of wild animals. Any given day, something could have bitten and prematurely ended the lives of either or both. Dwayne was a defensive small child.

By the middle of Dwayne's elementary school years, Jessie was no longer homeless. She told her son that he was brilliant and that he was her ticket out of poverty. She wasn't wrong, but there was too much pressure on Dwayne because of the extent Jessie insisted he get serious and provide for her. She also told him he was the next Albert Einstein. He wasn't the next Albert Einstein, but he is resourceful and talented.

When she met me, she said we would make the next Albert Einstein. We didn't. She says not yet.

Jessie no longer heavily implies that her son should provide for her. This is because she manages a successful restaurant, a country buffet. She treats me like a daughter. I'm her favorite daughter-in-law because I'm the one who cooks and organizes family reunions. It's nice to be appreciated.

This woman is the Paulette Bonafonté to my Elle Woods. We listened to the Legally Blonde musical soundtrack together when my hair was still growing back out. The song Ireland is her song for me.


End file.
